


Seeing You

by Frangipanidownunder



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 04:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frangipanidownunder/pseuds/Frangipanidownunder
Summary: For the first little while Scully is embarrassed about Mulder seeing her naked.





	Seeing You

1 They barely removed their clothes the first few times. They’d gone from ball-drop kissing to playing doctor on his couch. It was all fumbling and rutting and thank fucking. After that, they stole moments against walls or in cars and that one time, that one fucking time, in the movie theatre. And after his trip to London, he’s was amazed that she stayed over. She’d gone by the time he woke up, but she was imprinted in the crumpled sheets and his then-empty arms and his vivid dreams and his thankful heart. He saw that as the beginning of something more, of a slow-burn stretching of their time together, of a learning journey of personal habits and swathes of skin and their insides.

2 She stayed one weekend. Too much wine and the beginning of snow storm. They’d made the couch creak and groan while Raiders of the Lost Ark played in the background. She’d kept her bra on and he was thrilled. It was dark red with tasteful lace and a style that pushed her breasts into his face from all angles. She’d worn a skirt, and it remained rucked around her thighs as she rode him, head back, fingers gripping his shoulders. It was still new and raw and they’d staggered to his shadowy bedroom where she pushed him to the bed and crawled out of her skirt and all over him. 

3 He woke to the sound of her singing in the bathroom, ‘what a girl wants, what a girl needs,’ and he grinned like a dope as he pushed open the door. She was hugging a towel, hair falling in charming curls. Freshly scrubbed Scully was…actually a Dana. He understood the difference and this woman here, this pink-cheeked woman with wild wet hair, grasping a knot of towelling in her small hand, this was Dana and she was something special. His heart thrummed and his cock twitched and she cast her eyes down to admire. He went to grab the towel and whip it away like a toreador, but his bull, she just giggled and held it tighter. 

4 A game. He could do that, he could play the game and he pulled harder and she squirmed and the toothbrush fell from the sink and she bumped her elbow on the towel rack and yelped. He took his chance and the towel crumpled to the floor, her hand clutching uselessly at the empty air. She yelped again and his eyes filled with her tight body, her peachy breasts with their expectant nipples, the flat of her stomach and the flare of her hips, the patch of hair hiding that delectable place that took him to the heights and depths of pleasure, the way her strong thighs flexed and her tiny feet planted on the tiled floor. Her arms crossed her body as she gathered herself. And he saw her then as she saw herself. Vulnerable. And he felt like shit.

5 He said sorry, sorry, sorry and picked up the towel. She stepped into it, turning around so he caught the round of her ass. She shivered and he backed out of the room, closing the door. He got dressed, put some bread in the toaster, made coffee and perched on his couch with more apologies waiting on his lips. She came out, still wrapped in the towel. Her cheeks were pink from crying this time and he put the coffee mug down and stood up.   
“I’m sorry,” he said and she shook her head and told him she was sorry. “Why?”  
“I’m…my body has been…it’s just something I can’t…”  
“I get it,” he said and pulled her to him, wet towel between them. “I get it, Dana. I’m sorry I did that.”  
She sniffed into his chest. “The funny thing is that my doctor brain knows it’s irrational. My lover brain knows you don’t care, that you love me anyway…”  
“I do, I do,” he said into her hair. “I do love you and I don’t care about scars or marks or any of the things you think are flaws, because you are perfect.”  
She shakes her head. “I’m not, I’m not perfect. And it’s not just about the scars, the physical, it’s more about the emotional stuff… I’m not explaining this very well.”  
He kissed her hair, her forehead, her nose, her lips. She felt stiff in his arms, tight. “Things have happened to you, Dana…unspeakable things. But your body,” he lifted her chin so he could say it to her face, “your body is amazing. You are amazing. You’re a survivor.”  
She nodded, gulped in a large breath. “Is that coffee I smell?”  
“It is, it is,” he said.   
He took her hand and they sat on his couch, she sipped coffee while her hair dried frizzy and they slid closer and closer until he slipped his arm around her shoulders and she laid her head on his shoulder. His fingers traced eights on her arm and she snuggled closer, loosening the towel. He flicked at the edge of the fabric and she kissed his jaw, wriggling towards him.   
“You want to see me?” she asked.  
“I always see you,” he said.  
“That’s not…”  
He held the ends of the towel together. “I know, Dana. I know what you meant and I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable, but yes,” he said with a hot rush of love, “I would love to see you.”  
She stood up and let the towel fall and he saw nothing but the love of his life.


End file.
